Stages of Grief
by awuuyifan
Summary: The Kübler-Ross model hypothesises a series of emotions experienced by a person when encountering a form of personal loss. With the death of Fred Weasley comes a distraught Hermione Granger who becomes a little too acquainted with the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.


**disclaimer: i do not own the harry potter universe nor do i wish to stake claim on it. it all belongs to jk rowling.**

prologue; his end

He had it all planned out.

As soon as he saw her, he was going to drag her into an alcove, pull her against his chest and never let go. He was going to kiss away her fears. He was going to drop to his knees, clutching the hand of the most beautiful girl he'd ever known, and then he'd utter those fateful words. Words that, when formulated into that precious question, would make him the happiest man alive if she said 'yes.' He had to make sure she knew that he loved her and that he would spend the rest of his life with her. It didn't matter that he didn't have a ring - time was of the essence. He had to find her _now_.

Fred Weasley was going to propose; all he had to do was find her.

With a shuddering breath, he ducked out of the corridor, wand blasting spells that he casted off the top of his head. He dodged, jumped, rolled and dived when he had to. Adrenalin pumped through his blood, roaring in his ears. The final battle had arrived and Fred was not going to miss it for the world. Students, teachers and Death Eaters were battling up a storm all around him. Dead bodies of the people he once knew littered the hallways of his beloved Hogwarts. Fred didn't have the time to think or feel, all he could focus on was finding her.

A slicing hex scraped his arm, eliciting a hiss and stopping Fred in his tracks. Antonin Dolohov appeared with a sickening grin spread across his face, as though he had just stumbled upon the jackpot. There was no way Fred was going to leave the bastard unscathed for what he had done to her a few years ago. Dolohov sent a quick jet of green at the redhead, not missing a beat and apparently not messing around. Fred dropped to the ground, already shouting an _incendio_ at the man. Fire ate at the Death Eater's pants but Dolohov paid the pain no mind. His goal was to kill and maim as many people as he could. Face twisting in a cruel smirk, he shot a dark purple hex that Fred hurriedly parried away.

" _Depulso_!"

The familiar voice's sudden intrusion causes Dolohov to be thrown backwards by the banishing charm. Percy Weasley stands next to his younger brother, a faint grin of greeting on his lips, before he twists his wand and jabs at the offending Death Eater once more. " _Reducto_!" Dolohov was blasted into oblivion, pieces of his flesh raining down on unsuspecting duellers nearby. Fred, who was hiding underneath a _protego_ with Percy, was disgusted to note that there was a forearm with the Mark etched into it that had fallen nearby.

"Thanks Perce," he grinned, patting his brother on the back.

Percy nodded back, wand already up and ready to fire off curses at approaching Death Eaters. "Hello, Minister!" the once prefect bellowed. Soon enough, flashes of colorful lights filled the space between the brothers as they fought against their adversaries. Fred was shooting jinx after jinx at the father of Theodore Nott, trying and failing to disarm him. At this rate he'd never be able to tell her how much he loved the way her eyes sparkled with life whenever she'd talk about Ancient Runes. Nor would he be able to tell her how he loved the way her laugh seemed to always lift him out of bad moods. She was the light of his life and he'd be damned if he'd let the chance to let her know slip away from him because of one incompetent Death Eather.

With renewed vigour, Fred nonverbally threw a _stupefy_ and an _incarcerous_ at the Death Eater. Nott Sr. fell to the ground, bound by the spell and frozen in place. The redheaded prankster extracted the wand from the fallen enemy and broke it in two. He glared hatefully at the man; he hoped that Nott Sr. would be given the worst treatment available to mankind as scum like him did not deserve kindness. Fred did not noticed the Golden Trio jogging to a stop beside him, nor did he notice Rookwood slinking closer.

He turned back to his brother who had apparently sent a jinx of his own at Thicknesse. The man in question had dropped his wand and was clawing at his robes, his face a picture of discomfort as he tried to be rid of whatever it was that was crawling through his skin. Percy grinned. "Did I mention I'm resigning?"

Fred laughed, his agenda momentarily forgotten. In that moment, all that mattered was his brother and his conclusive return to the family. "You're joking, Perce! You're actually joking, Percy… I don't think I've heard you joke since you were-"

The wall exploded.

Percy was shaking his brother.

Ron dropped to his knees.

Someone was shouting. "No - no - no!"

Hermione was crying hysterically.

Harry couldn't move, he couldn't breathe and he couldn't think. His hand had found Hermione's. He was pulling her as they stumbled over stone and wood and stone and wood and -

Fred looked up at them with glassy eyes, his body broken beyond repair, and the ghost of his last smile forever tickling the corners of his lips. 

**a/n: i do hope this hasn't been done before but let's give it a go, shall we?**


End file.
